


Cloak/Plague

by Marsalias



Series: Ectober Shorts [19]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Gen, Zombie AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27323128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marsalias/pseuds/Marsalias
Summary: The world might have ended.  The dead may walk the streets.  But people still insist on telling ghost stories around fires.
Series: Ectober Shorts [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1522772
Comments: 19
Kudos: 188





	Cloak/Plague

The night was dark beyond the fire, pitch and clinging, as if someone had dipped the world in black paint. Jacob stood at the edge of the light, on watch, one hand resting on his gun, the thumb of the other hooked around its shoulder strap. Behind him, either Sharktooth or Jade—He wasn’t sure which woman was which—tossed another log on the fire. 

He was nervous. This was the largest group he’d been in for a while. Over fifty people. Little groups squished together by circumstance and the fact that scavenging only got harder as time went on. There was talk of finding a town somewhere, one that hadn’t been damaged too badly, and making a settlement. Something permanent. Something secure. 

Jacob’s stomach turned over. He’d tried that before. The Coliseum. It hadn’t worked out well, even if that was where he had met Mack.

Some of them were talking about trying for Sacramento or Rock City or the Valley. There was civilization there, just a touch of it, according to radio waves one of the techies picked up on good days.

Jacob had tried that, too. Sacramento, at least. _That_ hadn’t turned out well, either. 

Of all the things to fear during a zombie apocalypse, other humans were definitely at the top of Jacob’s list. Heck, he was only here in the first place because of Mack and how much they needed information. 

“So,” said one of the women, Jacob thought it was Sharktooth, languidly. “Who’s bored?”

Bored was probably the wrong word to describe anyone living through this mess. At the same time…

Well, Sharktooth got quite a response.

“We’re from all over, right? So, we’ve probably all got stories. Tales. Places we’ve seen or hear of. Might as well share while we’re here, right? Who knows when we’ll be around this many people again?”

“You’re not staying?” asked Jade, clearly taken aback. 

“Haven’t decided yet,” said Sharktooth, shooting a glance at leader of the largest of the gathering’s constituent groups. “Maybe if there was a plan…” She shrugged. “But, hey. All of us are here, now, right? We might as well make the best of it.”

“Why don’t you start, then?” asked Mack, a little belligerently. So, yeah, that was definitely Sharktooth. She and Mack had been having a thing since Jacob and Mack joined the group. Not a romantic thing, Sharktooth had to be a decade older than Mack, but still a thing. 

“Sure,” said Sharktooth. “Why not?” Jacob watched her crouch down next to the fire out of the corner of his eye. “Ever hear of the phantom city?”

There was muttering. “Everywhere’s a ghost town, now,” said someone, a little louder than the rest. “You don’t need to rub it in.”

“And we don’t need more nightmares,” added another. 

“Nah, this isn’t a ghost story. Just a weird story. Well, the town was supposed to be haunted _before,_ but I’m pretty sure that was just a tourist thing. Anyway, they’re a broadcaster. You know, radio spam. All that ‘Hey, here we are’ stuff. Like Sacremento.”

“Yeah?” prompted someone. “What’s the city called?”

“Amity Park. And if you’re in Illinois, you can probably catch their broadcast. But good luck finding it. There’s a reason it’s called the phantom city. When I was going up through Ohio, I met people who’d tried to find it. Never could.”

“Why were they in Ohio if they were looking for a city in Illinois?” asked Mack. “Seems kind of dumb.”

“Well, they’d given up,” said Sharktooth. “Couldn’t justify searching anymore. They were mad about it, too. They had maps, they had coordinates, radios to pick up the broadcast, everything. Heck, they said they had road signs. Exits off the highway marked with the name. But as soon as they got close…” She waved her hands dramatically. “ _Nothing._ Even the broadcast went silent.”

“Hey, hold up, I think I’ve heard of that!” interjected a member of Sharktooth’s audience. “There was just a hole in the ground or something.”

“Yep. But when they got farther away, the broadcast started up again.”

“I thought you said it wasn’t a ghost story.”

Sharktooth shrugged. “Might not be ghosts,” she said. “Might be people trying to lure people in. A trap, or something. Or maybe they had some kind of automated broadcast set up, and it kept going after the town got wrecked. I don’t know.” 

Jacob looked over his shoulder just in time to see a corner of Jade’s lip twitch up. “If you want to talk about ghost stories, why not the Phantom?”

Jacob groaned. He wasn’t the only one. 

“Oh, come on!” said Mack, protesting. “Don’t be like that, he’s real!”

“Have you ever met anyone who actually said they met him?” asked Sharktooth, practically. “It’s all friend of a friend stuff.”

“So’s Amity Park,” muttered Jade.

“I’ve met him!” protested Mack. 

“Wait, what, really?” asked Jade, sounding like she’d just been slapped. 

“Yeah! It was before I met Jacob. I was traveling with…” He trailed off. “Some… People. We got jumped by a pack, and I thought I was going to die, but Phantom showed up and he fought them off with just a machete! It was super cool. And, like, I got bitten, but he injected me with that green stuff, just like in the stories, and I was fine! Well, not _completely_ fine. I was kind of sick, after, but I didn’t turn, obviously. And then he brought me to Mastersoft Coliseum, because it was, you know, before it got wrecked. That’s where I met Jacob!”

“What did he look like?” asked one of the younger members of the group. 

“Well, I never really got a good look at him, to be honest? He was sort of wearing, uh, layers. Not quite one of those, um, hazmat suit type deals, I don’t think, but he had a mask. And his eyes were super green! It was wild.” He shrugged. “Also, I was kind of out of it… Like I said, I was pretty sick. Barely remember what he said to me…”

“Cool story, bro.”

“Yeah, maybe if you told it better, we’d believe it!”

“Hey! I’ve got the scars to prove it!”

“Whoa, hey,” said Sharktooth, mercifully stopping Mack from stripping. “You don’t have to—"

“Hello the camp!”

Jacob cursed and brought up his gun, his action mirrored by the others on watch. That voice was far too close for comfort. Even in the dark, someone should have noticed _something_. 

Why was this guy wandering around in the dark? 

“I come in peace! I bring medical supplies and zucchini!”

“Show yourself!” barked Jacob. 

“I’m just—Ah. I’m just right here.” 

Finally, movement. Jacob thumbed on his flashlight (and tried very hard not to think about how soon he’d have to replace the batteries). 

“Ow. Bright,” complained the teenager in front of him. Jacob stared. The kid was even younger than Mack. 

Was Mack even a teenager anymore…? It had been years. They’d missed some birthdays. 

Point being, there was no way this kid was out here on his own. 

“Where are the rest of you?” demanded Jacob. 

“Uh,” said the kid. “Nowhere? I’m out here on my own.” He waved his hands back and forth expressively but was careful to keep them in Jacob’s line of sight. His poncho flapped back and forth in the night breeze, concealing his figure. 

The kid could be wearing anything under there. Guns, bombs, _swords_... anything.

“Poncho,” snapped Jacob. “Take it off.” He was aware that the whole camp was tense and awake behind him, searching for other enemies, bracing themselves to run at a moment’s notice.

“Okay,” said the kid. “I really am alone, you know. Sorry to startle you all.” He pulled the poncho off, revealing that, despite it being the least likely thing on Jacob’s very short list of possibilities, the kid _was_ wearing a sword. No, he was wearing _two_ of them. 

“What are the swords for?”

“Uh,” said the kid, giving him a look like he was an idiot. “Killing zombies? I mean, what’s the _gun_ for? Who walks around without a weapon, these days, right?”

Closer to the fire, the group’s illustrious de facto leader was giving orders to search for whoever the kid was with. 

The kid rolled his eyes. “Do whatever you want to make yourselves feel better, but I _am_ alone. I’m not bait, or whatever you’re thinking.”

“You’re, like, fourteen,” said Sharktooth. “You would have been, what, eleven when the plague hit? No way you’re on your own.”

“Excuse you, but I’m eighteen, thanks. I blame my permanent baby face on my parents. Speaking of, you don’t happen to have a Jack or Maddie Fenton anywhere in there, do you?”

“There’s no one out here!” shouted one of the searchers, voice echoing slightly. 

The kid shrugged. “I _told_ you. I mean, I get why you’re cautious and all, I’ve been jumped a couple times, but still.”

The group watched him uneasily. 

“You’re looking for your parents?” asked Sharktooth, finally. 

“Yep. For a while, now. They were away from home when, you know, everything went down.”

Alright. Now this was just getting awkward. And a little pathetic. 

“Do you know where they were, at least?” asked Mack. Of course, Mack would sympathize. He had his own parental issues. 

There was something odd about his tone, however. Something off. 

“Yeah. Nevada. Specifically, Phoenix. But it’s been years, so they could be anywhere. Hence the searching. I’ve actually been to Nevada. It kind of sucks down there, to be honest, because, well, it’s a desert, but that also means there aren’t as many zombies, because apparently they get dehydrated, too, after a while. So. That’s interesting.”

“You’ve been to Nevada?” asked their wise leader. 

“Yeah. A bunch of other places, too, like I said, I’ve been searching. I can do a story swap if you’d like. Also, I have zucchinis. Yesterday, I stayed at this one house and there were just. So many zucchinis. Like, the entire yard was overrun with zucchinis. Zucchinis are edible, and you can’t turn your nose up at fresh produce in this economy, but I have no idea how to _prepare_ zucchinis, and they’re honestly a little, uh, bland? Let’s call it bland. To just eat raw. So, I’m willing to trade for, you know, not being shot.”

“You said you had medical supplies?” asked Jade. 

“Yeah, a bit! Not, like, a huge amount, but it seemed like the thing to say. Is anyone hurt?”

Their heroic leader took a moment to consider this. “Not right now. But, alright. We can swap stories. What’s your name?”

“Danny. Danny Fenton.” The kid made a motion that might have been intended as a salute. 

“Right. Jacob, you can stop it with your tough-guy act.”

Very reluctantly, Jacob lowered the gun. The kid, Danny or whatever, was _way_ too cheerful for an eighteen-year-old walking through a zombie apocalypse on his own. Something was up. 

Of course, that something might just be godawful coping mechanisms. 

“Anyway, here are the zucchinis.” The boy held out a bag, a hopeful smile on his face. “So, uh, stories? Preferably about places where there’s a bunch of people, because that’s the kind of place they’d go.”

“Right, sure,” said the man who claimed leadership. “What are your parents, anyway?”

“Ah, they’re doctors!” said the boy. “I want to bring them home, so they can figure out a cure.”

Okay. So, the kid was delusional. Right. Well, it happened. 

“I mean, we’ve had some success, but they’re specialists, you know? When I say ‘we’ I mean Amity Park as a whole, by the way. I’m the one who had the basic idea, I guess, but I didn’t have any way to follow through on my own. Observing a fact doesn’t mean you can take advantage of it, after all!”

“Amity Park?”

“Yep! That’s where I’m from.” Danny shot finger guns at Sharktooth. “We’ve got an environmental deterrent for zombies. Chemical in the air screws with the virus. Some get in every once in a while, but they usually die in a week, even if you leave them alone, which we don’t. It’s pretty safe, there. I can give you a map.”

“Is this a joke?” demanded the ‘leader.’

“Um, no? Why would it be a joke?”

“I met some people who tried to find your town, but it was a crater,” said Sharktooth. 

“That’s still going on, huh?” Danny shook his head. “Yeah, we don’t really know why it does that, either. Or was that a couple years ago? We were trying to fix it…” He trailed off. “What?”

“You said you had medical supplies?” prompted the man trying very hard to stay in charge. 

“Ah, right.” The kid reached into his bulkier bag and pulled out a large box. “Speaking of, I don’t suppose you’ve heard of anyone else trying to make a cure? Mom and Dad could be working with them, and if not,” he shrugged, then flipped up the lid of the box, “collaboration is always good.”

Half the box was full of various bottles, packets, and smaller boxes. Normal enough. The other half, though…

“Is that radioactive?” asked Jacob, unable to stop himself as he stared at the… God, were those epi-pens?

“Not in the sense you’re thinking of, but yes.”

“Oh my gosh,” said Mack. “I knew it! You’re Phantom!”

Danny looked up. “Um. I guess we’ve met?”

“Yeah, you took me to the Mastersoft Coliseum! That’s the stuff you injected me with!”

“Oh, you were the kid the Boom Box Raiders were dragging around!”

“Oh. Yeah,” said Mack, weakly. “That’s me.”

“Nice to see you’re still around. Anyway, to answer your _next_ question, this is the prophylactic.” He picked up one of the glowing green injection pens. “At least, that’s what some of the doctors back home call it? If you get it within a minute of being bitten or scratched or whatever, preferably in the area near the wound, you have an eighty percent survival rate. Sometime more can help fighting off the disease, but if you’re not acclimated, you can go into shock with too much, and there’s really no way to get acclimated out here.”

“You’re willing to trade something like that?” asked Jade, dubiously. 

“Why not? Like I said, it’s environmental where we live.”

“But you’re not there, now. You’re out here. Same as the rest of us.”

“That’s true. But I’ve got enough of this in my bloodstream to straight-up kill any zombie that wants to bite me. Really. I can show you the scars if you want.” He raised an eyebrow. Then he turned to their ever so brilliant leader with a sharp smile. “By the way, you should rethink robbing me. I _am_ very willing to trade, but if you attack me, I have dozens of ways to kill you. Most of them don’t even involve my swords.”

“It’s true,” said Mack. 

“You know what?” said Jacob, stepping a little closer to Danny, or Phantom, or whoever this kid was trying to be. “Why don’t you show us those scars. Then we can decide if we even want to trade with you.”

Phantom shrugged. “Fair enough.”


End file.
